Chapter 19
Mike Stoker strolled into Johnny's apartment, sweeping a glance over its occupants as well as noting possible exits. It had become such a normal thing for him to do whenever he entered a new building, he was barely aware that he did it. The long windows flanking the fireplace would be easy routes of escape as long as you didn't mind jumping four stories to the hard ground below; he wondered if Johnny had some kind of flexible ladder stowed nearby or if he would just tie bed sheets together and rappel down.
Smiling at the thought of sheets emblazoned with Dalmatians hanging out of the window or the mountain goat like Gage scrambling down the side of the building using only fingers and toes between the bricks, he said hello to both linemen who were gathering up their coats. "You guys don't have to leave on my account."
"We've pretty much wore out our welcome," Chet replied with a shrug, zipping up his light jacket.
"What he means is he's worn Johnny out; well, that and he wants to go shoot some pool," Marco hastily added when Mike shot Chet a curious look about the welcome.
"Johnny's not wore out." The person in question argued, coming to a halt in front of Marco and shaking his head. "I just wasn't expecting visitors, much less every guy from our shift."
"Yeah, sorry about that, I guess we didn't think that through before we made the plan," Roy apologized as he joined the group, the dog close behind him and sniffing the new arrival. He slid behind Chet and set the pill bottles on the counter. Having seen the contents of Gage's refrigerator, he knew his partner hadn't been to the store in probably four or five days, more than likely due to the overtime. It was sadly lacking in both beverages and food, abundant only in condiments but that was pretty common for a bachelor. He decided he'd better drive that point home before Johnny went on a bad host guilt trip. "And we weren't expecting you to offer us anything but the assurance that you're okay."
"I am okay," John said softly, but every man there noticed the usually energetic man had stepped to the side and was already leaning a shoulder against the wall.
Kelly smirked and gave his fellow firefighter a light tap on the non- leaning shoulder. "Yeah, but next time we will call ahead and you can have the pizza and beer waiting for us."
Gage nodded in agreement, lips twisting in a half smile, and thanked the men for bringing things to aid in his recovery. Chet and Marco said their goodbyes and went out the door, arguing about where to go on a Sunday evening to play pool. DeSoto closed the door behind the bickering duo and took down his slicker from the hook.
"That Kelly is a strange fellow sometimes," Johnny pondered out loud as he left the support of the wall. He set his empty glass next to the bottles and attacked the thermos, twisting off lids and pouring the last of the warm Jell-O into the cap. He flicked his fingers towards Mike, who was still standing awkwardly near the door. "Hang your coat up and have a seat, Mike, I want to finish this while it's still warm."
"Thanks," Stoker said and headed for the love seat. He paused in mid stride and looked over his shoulder. "I agree about Chet, he does have some odd ideas."
"Uh huh, and a hell of a firefighter from what I've seen and if all I hear is true," Johnny added in a muffled voice as he downed the liquid. He quickly washed everything, dried it, and reassembled the thermos. He started to hand it to DeSoto but paused when he saw what was transpiring between his partner and Graceland.
"Ah, come on Roy, really? I mean, I thought you were kidding when you told Chet that she had a raincoat." Leaning an elbow on the counter, he watched Roy pull the dog's tail through the slit in the coat, finish attaching it, than strap the hat on her head. "Geesh, look at her face, she's embarrassed."
"I was going to wait and put it on her in your lobby, but…." Roy shrugged, apparently over his earlier determination to not let Johnny see the coat and hat. "There's no way I can get her past my wife with wet fur; she'll want to know why she's not wearing the stuff. Plus there's nothing like the smell of wet dog in the confined space of a pickup truck."
Gage wrinkled his nose and handed the thermos over. "Yeah, that's true. Thanks for bringing over the dog and the Jell-O stuff, I appreciate that, ya know.
"No problem, just get better so I don't end up riding on the engine," he replied nonchalantly, snapping the leash on the shepherd's collar. He straightened up and grinned.
"You couldn't handle it, old man," John teased back. "I'll see you Tuesday."
"You betcha! Come on Grace, let's check the hallway for wandering landlords, and then go for a ride." Waving goodbye to Stoker, who was now standing by the fireplace, Roy poked his head out of the door. The coast was clear, so he headed out with Grace trotting eagerly by his side.
Johnny closed the door and ambled into his living room. Mike was slowly running his hand over the detailed carving on the mantle, admiring the workmanship.
"That's some work there," he enthused, noting the same attention to detail on the wide trim around the windows.
"One of the reasons I rent here," John replied, dropping onto the chair. "It's small but has a lot character."
Finishing his inspection, Stoker settled comfortably onto the love seat, crossing a leg. "What's that dog's name?"
"Um, Graceland, you know, where Elvis lives?"
"No kidding! Is Roy an Elvis fan?"
"No, his wife is; she named the dog, and, get this, their daughter is Lisa and their boy Christopher Elvis."
"Wow, how cool is that, naming your daughter after Elvis's daughter, and giving your son the King's name. My wife Connie and I are huge Elvis fans!"
"You like Elvis?" Johnny asked in disbelief.
"Hell yeah, don't you? If you haven't seen him in concert, you gotta do it." Mike stood up and to John's further amazement struck a pose and then went into a hip swinging rendition of Elvis's moves. He threw himself back onto the cushions laughing as Johnny, wide eyed and mouth agape, stared at him. Mike pointed a warning finger at him. "You tell anyone I did that, I'll have to kill you."
Johnny snapped his mouth closed. "No, no way, nobody would believe me anyway. And I thought Kelly was crazy! That was totally unexpected Mike!"
Mike threw up his hands. "And I can't believe you don't like Presley."
"I didn't say that, in fact I like him just fine. He's got some good stuff." He hummed a bit of one of Elvis's hit songs but except for a foot tapping on the floor wisely kept the rest of his body firmly planted on the chair.
They spent the next several minutes discussing nothing in particular, mindless chatter that for the two men who were quiet and serious at the station, was quite a feat.
~eeeEEEeee~
Marco Lopez sat on a barstool, elbow on the varnished wood of the bar, and watched in amazement as Chet ambled nonchalantly around the pool table and sank his third ball in a row. He caught Marco's admiring stare and gave him a thumbs up before lining up for his next shot. This time he missed; he shrugged good-naturedly and stepped away to let his opponent have space.
"Finally," the man muttered, chalking up his cue and eyeing the table with a scowl.
Chet grinned even wider and studied the fellow with interest, taking in his high and tight haircut as well as his shoulders back posture. "Marine?"
"Yeah, Vietnam, and now an LAPD cop." He bent over the table, sliding the stick through his hands as he lined up his shot. He paused, lifting his bent head to study both Chet and Marco. "You boys do know that this is a cop and fire hangout?"
Kelly snickered and waved a dismissive hand. "We didn't know; we stopped here because it's only about a mile away from our friend's place. But since we're both fire, I guess we fit in just fine."
The man straightened up and walked over to Chet, extending a hand. "Enrique Flores, Rampart Division."
"Chet Kelly and Marco Lopez, LA County, Station 51 Carson," Chet exclaimed, pumping the offered hand and moving a step to the side as Lopez joined them.
"Lopez…I know it's a common name, but you don't happen to have a sister or cousin maybe by the name of Daniella do you?"
Marco dropped his hand, fighting the urge to rub it from the firm handshake. "I have a younger sister who just happens to work next to a police station…."
"Well now, that's a mighty fine coincidence! I met her right outside of our building when I literally bumped into her. We've been out a couple of times for coffee; she's a really nice girl and we have a lot in common." He hesitated, checking the Hispanic lineman for signs of protectiveness. Aside from a lifted eyebrow, Marco seemed fine with Enrique dating his sister. "Another weird thing, I have a friend nearby also and he's a fireman at a new station not too far from here…."
"John Gage?" Chet queried.
"Yep, Johnny, is he at your station?"
"Sure, part of our six man shift crew, too, as rescue and paramedic."
"I guess it can be a small world sometimes," Flores enthused, slapping Kelly on the back and resuming their game. He knocked two balls in, walked to a new position, and proceeded to run out the table. He beckoned to the firemen and walked over to a booth in the far corner.
Chet carefully leaned his cue against the bar and folded his arms, a mutinous expression shadowing his face. Marco smiled and picked up his beer.
"I guess it's not your night after all, Chester B."
Chester snorted and then let out a long sigh of regret. "It sure looked like it would be." He looked at the pool cue, rolled it between his palms, and picked it back up. "Come on, let's buy Johnny's friend a beer and see if we can get some stuff on Gage."
"You mean like inside information that you can use in the prank war you're about to start?" Marco gathered up the mugs and followed Chet over to the rack on the wall. He waited as his friend added his cue; they both headed for the booth Enrique had sat down in.
"Who, me, start my legendary pranks against a brand new target?" Kelly asked over his shoulder sotto voce, eyes wide in innocence.
Marco rolled his eyes and slid into the seat next to his grinning friend. Flores was twisting his cue apart and laying the pieces into a case; Chet stared at the case and lost his smile.
"I think I've just been taken."
Enrique snapped the case close with a sharp click and shook his black haired head. "Nope, I just don't like handling the sticks that everyone else has rolled between their sweaty palms. I guess I'm a germaphobe with some things."
"And yet you're a cop, Enrique? Don't drunks throw up on you and stuff like that?" Chet asked in disbelief.
The older man laughed. "Just call me Rico, and yeah they do on occasion but I'm pretty good at dodging. So were you guys over at Gage's place? Not too many people running around on a Sunday evening in this weather unless they have something planned."
"Uh huh, he had a rocky shift with a lot of strange rescues, plus he picked up the flu," Lopez informed Rico. "We took him some stuff to help his stomach."
"So," Chet butted in before Flores could respond. "How do you and John know each other?"
"We're both Marines, why?" he replied, directing a cold stare at Kelly.
Chet spread his hands out in appeasement. "Just curious, I had no idea Gage was in the Marines. Actually I didn't even know he was even in the service until this morning when we ran into a fellow that apparently knew him from there."
"Oh, and who would that be? Johnny and I were together quite a while over there in the jungle, so I might know him." Rico broke off his glare and picked up the hamburger that had just arrived.
"I never caught his name; I do know he's a little older and is an Indian, though, and they seemed kinda close, almost like brothers. Although Gage told me they weren't, but they were speaking some kind of language I didn't recognize." Chet trailed to a halt and wondered if he had said something wrong or just said too much, for Flores was giving him that look again.
"Sorry, force of habit looking at people that way," Rico apologized, as if sensing the fireman's uneasiness. "That sounds like Fred Begay; I know him almost as well as John. I wonder what he's doing in our neck of the woods."
Kelly shrugged and they moved on to other subjects. Flores left after eating but Chet and Marco lingered, ordering food and having one more beer.
"Funny, I wouldn't have figured Gage for a Marine," Chet mused, dunking a French fry in ketchup and popping it into his mouth.
Marco wiped his mouth with a paper napkin and set down his fork, his plate of spaghetti wiped clean. "What do you figure him for? And Flores was right, the food is pretty good."
"Yeah it is, especially for a bar. Try one of these pepperoni balls…" Kelly pushed a basket towards him that still held two of the fried appetizers. "I don't know, Army maybe? But you know, honestly, I can't see him in there at all, unless he was drafted. He just doesn't seem to be the type to toe up and follow blind orders."
"You do what you gotta do especially in times of war, Chet, just like you and Roy both did. And being in the fire department, you still have to follow orders from the big chiefs."
"Yeah I suppose you're right…speaking of chiefs, I'm pretty sure Johnny has some Indian blood in him. You should have seen him talking to that Begay fellow, and he was definitely all Indian! Where do you think Gage grew up, maybe on a reservation in one of those tepees? I wonder what they make those things out of nowadays since the buffalo went bye – bye."
Lopez slapped a hand to his forehead. "Like I said earlier Chet, you continue to amaze me. I don't think anybody lives in tepees anymore, and if they do the things are probably made of canvas; if you're so curious about John's background just ask him."
He paused a moment as the sound of sirens overrode the normal noises of the bar. Both men listened intently, picking out the wails of two fire vehicles as they flew by, followed closely by the slightly different tone of a police car.
"Something pretty close…." He started to speak, and closed his mouth again when an ambulance sped by. They had gone over to the door after the first set of emergency vehicles whipped by; he poked his head out of the door and caught a glimpse of the back end of the hearse like ambulance as it disappeared down the road. He glanced around, noted the still falling rain and pulled his head back in. "Really darn close, the sirens have already cut off."
They returned to the booth and finished their food, washing down the final crumbs with the ice water they had switched to. Chet sighed in contentment and leaned back. "That hit the spot; I wonder if Johnny knows about this joint?"
Marco laughed and stretched his legs out. "I think you and Johnny need to have an in depth conversation so that you can ask him all these questions fermenting in your noggin."
"Good idea, friend, good idea, you think he might be up for some socializing tomorrow night?"
"Nope, give him a little time to relax, and do it on a night that we don't have to be on shift the next morning."
Kelly made a face but nodded his curly head in agreement. "Yeah you're right. He still looks kinda out of it…man though, a Jarhead! I still can't get over it! Say, I know Roy was in the Army just like me, and you were exempt because your brothers were all in, but how about Stoker?"
"He was in the Navy, on a ship."
"You actually had a conversation with that guy? How'd you manage that?"
Marco flashed a toothy smile. "It's simple really, you start off with something like "Hey Mike, how's it going" and then proceed from there."
"Oh brother…" Chet groaned in mock dismay. "I guess you have better conversation skills than I do, at least with Mikey. On a ship, wow, that's almost as unbelievable as Gage. I sure hope it wasn't a submarine, can you imagine him ducking all of the time? Hey, did you know that he has a dune buggy? Supposedly that's how he met his wife."
"Yeah, I'd heard that. They take it to the beach all the time. Of course, I also heard that he met Mrs. Stoker in a bar, so who knows how much of that gossip is truth, especially coming from the depths of the fire department."
"Right, I hear ya...what do you think about the rest of the guys? Think we'll make a good team?" A smile played about Chet's mouth, but Lopez knew he was asking a serious question.
"I do, no question about it. Captain Hammer seems like a straight shooter, and I have a feeling he won't be afraid to get his hands dirty. Stoker is the same way, and I kinda wonder how long it will be before he starts hitting the books for the captains' exam. Roy and Johnny are equally matched, I think, in both their paramedic and firefighter skills, although Gage might be a little more daring in the rescue department. My partner on the hoses, however, that's a whole different story…..."
"Hah hah, you're a barrel of laughs, you know that? But I do agree with your assessment of the guys. I suppose we'd better get out of here before we hafta build an ark. What are your plans for tomorrow?"
"Give my Mama some help around the house; she has some projects, like caulking, that need done. What are you gonna do?" Lopez stood up, shrugged his jacket on, and waited patiently for Kelly to do the same.
"Well, Jack and Mary wanted to hit Disneyland, but this weather has pretty much put the kibosh on that. So, I don't know." He zipped up his windbreaker and flipped up the hood. "I get bored, how about I come over and give you a hand?"
"Excellent, and bring your Kelly siblings if you want because there's a rumor going around that Mama and some of the aunts are going to make tamales," Marco informed him as they settled up the check at the bar. The bartender, an amiable man who had introduced himself earlier as Henry, handed back the change. He pointed a finger at Marco.
"Do they make extra? I would buy a couple dozen for the bar here if they did."
"I'll ask them and get back to you, but I'm pretty sure they would be happy to," he answered, handing Chet his share of the change.
They headed for the door and Henry grinned as he heard Chet's words before they left.
"I'm so gonna be bored tomorrow, what time you want me to come over?"
~eeeEEEeee~
As the light conversation slowed, Stoker leaned forward and became serious. "Say, Gage, I brought you something too. Do you know Rodriguez over at 36s?"
"He just graduated in the newest class of paramedics, didn't he? He's based out of St. Francis instead of Rampart?"
"That's him. I gave him a call; if you need to take your next shift off, he'll cover for you."
"Oh, well, hey that's great. Thanks for setting that up, I'll let you know for sure tomorrow, but I think I'll be good." He brushed a hand across his face as if chasing away cobwebs and the smile that had been teasing his mouth upwards for the last thirty minutes vanished. He wiggled into the chair deeper and frowned as if recalling something unpleasant.
"I'm sure you will," Stoker conceded, leaning back, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles.
He watched the young paramedic a moment, trying to understand what was behind the suddenly downcast eyes and the tightly laced fingers. He flashed back on the scene at the freeway when he had seen Gage throwing up and decided to have a go at cracking the shell that seemed to have grown up around him in the last day. "John, I've been told I'm a good listener. What's been bugging you? Pretty much the whole last shift you were…I don't know…something…"
He trailed off wondering if he had gone too far. Johnny was gazing steadily at him now, but his face was devoid of emotion, a blank mask that concerned him even more then the sudden lethargy. More proof that the hastily built wall around him was growing stronger, hiding more than feelings? Was Gage hiding behind that shield, or was he keeping other people out? Mike wasn't sure, hadn't a clue.
He blinked and broke eye contact. Not that Gage was a four legged animal or anything, but locking eyes with a warm blooded mammal could lead to aggression or be construed as a challenge which was absolutely not his intent with this two legged human.
A sigh finally drifted his way and the blank mask cracked, revealing hesitation, worry, and doubt. ""Something" huh…. dunno Stoker, I'm not sure about this whole paramedic business anymore."
"You aren't?" He couldn't keep the surprise out of his question; he had thought Gage was as gung ho about the program as DeSoto. He grimaced when John threw his head back and stared up at the ceiling, worrying his lower lip. Probably had just shut the guy up for good which was exactly the opposite of what he had intended. He wasn't expressing himself very well tonight; it was time for damage control. "Like you said about Chet being a good firefighter; you're an equally good paramedic."
Johnny continued to regard the ceiling with intense concentration, fingers laced loosely over his stomach. He wasn't going to fire back the obvious but rude barb of "how would you know anyways?" The engineer only had basic first aid training so he most likely wouldn't know whether he was aiding a patient or hastening their death along. And he sure wasn't about to admit all his latest failures, screwups, or whatever you wanted to call them, to Mike. Mentally counting, he recalled how he had, at least twice in the last two shifts, been firmly instructed to relay the vitals before asking for pain relief or the starting of an IV. He'd asked for repeats of easy instructions, hadn't been able to find a vein on at least one victim, and had almost shocked a poor guy who had a beating heart. And, of course, just about all of those mistakes had been when Brackett was on the other end of the radio; the abrasive doctor could review the tapes that were recorded of their other transmissions if he needed more ammunition on just how poorly he was doing his job….
He waffled on his answer, taking the easy route and just stating the obvious. "I don't know Mike, just seems like an awful lot of extra work and responsibility for what? A pat on the back if you do it right or a kick in the ass if you make a simple mistake; if you really screw up someone loses their life and you get to live with THAT the rest of YOUR life."
Johnny got up and paced over to a window. He swiped at the condensation and stared moodily out at the still falling rain. The wind had picked up and he watched an abandoned beach ball bounce along the Kool Deck that surrounded the diving pool. A five foot fence separated the deep water from a decorative hedge of climbing rose bushes and the pedestrian sidewalk that wound between the four apartment buildings.
Mike shifted uneasily in his seat, his relaxed pose no longer evident. He turned sideways and observed the stiff shoulders of his crewmate. Tension was radiating off him in waves, flooding the room with it; Mike had the uneasy feeling that if he snapped his fingers the air would vibrate.
His tone was gentle when he replied. "You knew all that when you signed up for the program, Johnny. No change in pay, which is really absurd; all the rest of it is the same as if you were a medic in the Army or in any kind of professional within the medical field, doctor, nurse, whatever. You're going to win some, but you're ultimately going to lose a few. So what's changed for you in the last few days?"
"Yeah I know all of that, did my homework before I joined up after all." He tore his gaze away from the outside scenery and regarded the engineer solemnly. "Maybe I'm just having a bad day or all this water is really bugging me, or…."
He threw up his hands in bewilderment and startled a bit when a crack of thunder boomed, throwing a quick look towards the window. He froze, hands still in the air, as if unsure of what he was seeing.
"What the hell," he muttered as he turned fully to the window, smashing his nose against the glass and cupping his hands to try and get a clearer view. Mike rose and joined him.
"What is it?" Stoker asked.
"It looks like….a child inside the pool area chasing after that ball!" Johnny exclaimed when a second later the lights around the pool automatically clicked on, clearly illuminating the area. He ran to the door and snatched up a pair of tennis shoes, talking as he yanked them on. "Get ready to call the fire department, Mike, if I can't reach her in time…keys to gate and my door hanging there by intercom box, gate is on opposite side of pool….."
The door slammed against the wall as Gage bolted; Mike could hear his pounding feet flying down the hall. Another slam of a door, metal this time, reverberated as the fast moving medic entered the stairwell and the door closed behind him.
Stoker snatched the phone up off the blue milk crate next to the loveseat. He set the base on the sill, and held his position in front of the wide window. Definitely a small kid out there, maybe about two, arms outstretched as she tottered unsteadily after the drifting ball. The wind was buffeting both the child and the ball and he let out a groan as the beach accessory ended a macabre dance of follow the leader by twirling into the pool.
His hand slapped the pane in frustration then dropped to the phone as he began dialing the number with one finger. His other hand fumbled in his back pocket and retrieved the slip of paper with Gage's address on it. A second later what they feared became reality as the child stepped unhesitatingly into the chilling inkiness of the pool.
His calm words as Mike gave the address and details were the opposite of the turmoil that was churning in his gut. As he dropped the receiver back into the cradle and sprinted for the door, the buzzer went off for the outside intercom. He pushed the button bellowing a quick "hello?" as he fumbled for Johnny's keys hanging on the wall.
"Dick Hammer here..."
Mike cut him off. "Captain, Stoker here, meet me at the back of the building at the pool gate, child in pool."
He locked the handle of the door only, closing it behind him and running for the stairs. His last glimpse of Gage had been the man scrambling up and over the rose bush adorned fence and then diving into the water….he could only hope that the paramedic would be in time to save the child, and possibly, himself…..
~TBC~
